Back in the Working World....

Yep - that's right - I finally went back to work - a real job - not just a once a week contract gig. So, I guess Chris and I are officially DINKS (double income no kids) again. Chris already has a list of projects he wants to do which he plans on using my paychecks for. It was funny how I got the job - can you believe someone found my resume on Monster.com? Seriously, the only job offers I have gotten from Monster.com were ones that required my returning to Iraq. I was quite surprised to get the phone call asking if I was interested in interviewing for the position. I have to admit, it is not a position I would have thought to apply to. But - anyway.... I am now the FAA Program Coordinator/Data Analyst. I think it will be a pretty cool job - I will basically be spending most of my time building databases and spreadsheets. How cool is that? I went out and bought me a few new outfits that I thought were appropriate for an office environment - but today, I asked on of my bosses (I have two bosses - the Operations Manager and the Quality Manager) what the dress code was. His reply, "well, what would you LIKE to wear?" I kind of laughed - but he was serious. He said that of course I could not wear t-shirts with naughty words on them (like I even own a tshirt with a naughty word on it). He did say no open toed shoes due to the fact that I will have to on occasion go out in to the hangar and that would break all kinds of safety rules. But that's OK - because have you seen all the cute boots they have this season?

15 Years of Wedded Bliss

OK - so it was not 15 years of total bliss - I would be lying if I said we never had "our moments". I will admit to having more moments than Chris, but I will blame it on hormones (isn't that the standard excuse for women?). But yes, believe it or not, Chris and I have been married for 15 years. We celebrated our anniversary yesterday. So for all of you who thought I would not make it past even one year.... neener neener neener :) I have to admit, things were "rocky" in the beginning. Living on a sailboat, you do tend to rock quite a bit. Not that things were that much better in the houseboat (although I did have plumbing there). After 5 years of boat living, we went on to apartment living. Not just normal apartment living, but a year and half of managing an apartment complex for the mentally ill. From there we went on to a beach condo, a small starter home with pool and on to the historic mansion in Old Town. I have to admit, that my most fond memories of when we were living on boats and dirt poor. I never realized at the time how poor we were, but looking back, I am amazed that I was so clueless. Finally, we ended up back in Alabama, only to take off for another 2 years and go to Iraq, followed by a half year in Germany. So at this point, I am wondering #1 - what exactly is normal living? and #2 How did we survive for so long? As far as the answer to number one.... I have no answer. I mean - really - what IS normal and why do we strive to be normal? As far as the answer to #2 - the only answer I could think of was - LOVE. Yep, I truly believe Chris loves me unconditionally. He would have to for him to put up with me for 15 years. He has truly been my rock. Despite my weaknesses and shortcomings, he has been there for me - through thick and thin. OK - so I have not been thin since long before we were married - but you get my drift. Every year, for our anniversary we go out to a nice place to eat (OK - so one year, we had no choice but to go to the chow hall at Camp Fallujah - but I still count that as going out to eat). This year, I told Chris I did not want to go out to eat. We seriously eat out way too much - even though we have cut down on it. I also did not see the sense in exchanging gifts. Its not like we don't already buy whatever we want anyway - so why get a gift for each other just for the sake of giving a gift? Does it sound like the honey moon is over? Well, not exactly - I would just prefer to spend the time home - alone with him. By alone, I mean - no phones and especially no computers. I made Chris a photo album (well - it is not quite done - but I got a good start on it - and I am pretty sure he does not mind that I finish it later) and he gave me a massage. I have to admit it was a very nice anniversary and I enjoyed the time home alone with him. I can't wait for the next 15 years of bliss.

Happy 27th Birthday to Me!

No - it is not my birthday, and I have not even seen my 20s for a while. HOWEVER, today, after 22 days of being rude and obnoxious to me, the Wi fit lady gave me a wi fit age of 27! I can not tell you how happy that made me feel. I have to admit, if she told me the first day I stepped on her little step to analyze me, I would not been nearly as happy as I am today. But that darn woman calls me obese! I mean, I know I am over weight and I will even admit that I am fat. But obese? That woman sure hurts my feelings. And the first time I stepped on her, she told me I had a wi fit age of 51. She is darn lucky I did not take her back to Best Buy - or worse yet, throw something at her. And seriously, does she have to make my little character fat too? I designed my cute little "mi" and then she went and blew it up like a baloon. Now that I have gotten the hang of it, after her little tests, she usually tells me I am in my 30s - and sometimes up to 46. I have to admit, I am not happy at all when she even says 40 - even though I am over 40, I don't feel like I am. But today, when she told me 27.... I was so happy. As a matter of fact, I am so happy I may never step on her again. I kind of like the idea of quitting while I am 27.

Cartoon of the Day

From the website:
http://commonsenselogic.blogspot.com/

HappyBirthday Daddy!

Today is my dad's birthday. I was blessed with such an awesome father. I have so many childhood memories that just make me smile and be so grateful to have such a great dad. He was probably my favorite playmate I ever had. He took me on sled rides, he hung me the most awesome tire swing, he took me on hikes, took me fishing, had snowball fights with me, he was always there for me. In November of 1993, right after I got married, my daddy was diagnosed with cancer. It broke my heart. I had seen so many people in my family suffer with this awful disease. I prayed for my dad every day. I prayed that he would not be taken away from me. The doctor told him that if he was lucky - he would live five years. When I asked him what he wanted for Christmas that year, he told me 5 more Christmases. I told him that I would talk to the man upstairs and see what I could do. My dad never complained. He always had the most positive optimistic attitude. We called him a "chemo junkie" because he would feel better after chemo and when he started feeling bad again, he would ask for chemo. The strange thing was that I would sometimes feel the pains my father felt. I had never had a charlie horse before - but I would wake up in the middle of the night crying in pain with a horrible Charlie horse. I would always look at the clock... and sure enough, the next day I would call my dad and ask how his night was last night. He would always say he was feeling fine - but would finally admit that he had woke up at the exact same time with a Charlie Horse. One day, I all of a sudden felt dizzy and felt as if I was going to pass out. Since I was going through fertility treatments at the time, I thought maybe I was pregnant. But when I talked to my dad that evening, I found out that he had been in the emergency room at the same time - feeling faint and dizzy. Somehow, it made me feel closer to him to suffer some of the same pains that he did. I know that what I felt was only a small percentage of what he felt - but I always knew when he was feeling bad. He finally realized that he could not lie to me and tell me he felt fine if he was not. I continued to pray for my dad every day - I prayed that God would not take my daddy away from me. My dad continued to have his great sense of humor. He took a turn for the worse - the doctors told him that the cancer had gone to his liver. We all know the normal outcome for that. The family was preparing for the worse- but not me. I just had a feeling that the doctors were wrong - he had more than 3-6 months to live. The rest of the family thought I was in denial. But I knew. I felt it in my heart. Maybe I did not want to face the fact that my daddy could leave me - or - maybe I was right. Well, my dad did overcome that cancer. Being the chemo junkie that he is - he won that battle, but still had many more to go. By the summer of 2000 he was getting bad again. I had moved away, but decided to come back for what I knew would be his last days. Chris came back before me and stayed in my parents beach condo. They would come there every week on Fridays and go back on Monday morning. I am so grateful for this time away from Chris, because it gave him the opportunity to REALLY get to know my parents. He came to understand where I get my sense of humor and some of my mannerisms. I had never realized how much I was like my dad until Chris pointed it out. I finally returned in July. In December, we were planning what we all anticipated would be our last Christmas together as a family. My sister had airline tickets to come to Virginia, we had reservations for Christmas dinner at Colonial Williamsburg. Chris had a job interview in Dallas, then they called him asking him to come back again and bring me. I flew to Dallas with him and while on a layover coming home, I called my dad. We had a wonderful, heartfelt conversation. When I hung up the phone, I cried. I somehow knew that it was my last conversation with my dad. When we got back to Virginia, I was sick with the flu and unable to visit my dad. I was trying so hard to get better so that I could spend Christmas with the family. I did not get to talk to my dad on the phone during those few days - he was not feeling up to it. I changed my prayers that month. I stopped asking God not to take my father away. I started asking him to PLEASE not let my daddy suffer. On December 20, 2000 my mother and I talked on the phone. My dad was actually telling her he felt really bad. This was not like my father - he never complained. We talked about whether or not to bring Hospice in. We decided that if we did - he may give up. Later that evening, I got a phone call from my mother. She asked me to meet her at the hospital, the ambulance had just left with my dad. I hung up the phone and dropped to the floor, crying at what I knew would come next. Chris drove me to the hospital where they asked us to wait in the family room. I knew when they asked us to wait there that my fears were a reality. I know that my mom knew too. A young doctor came in to give us the news. There was nothing they could do, my father had passed. I cried so hard that night that I cried one of my contacts out. I hoped that I would wake up and it would all have been a bad dream. Unfortunately, it was very much real. My fathers body was taken to West Virginia, where we buried him just before Christmas. The funeral was different than any I have ever been to. We had lots of music before hand. We had the song "Wind Beneath My Wings" which was the song my dad and I danced to at my wedding reception. We also had my uncle singing "How Great Thou Art". At the graveside, as previously requested by my dad, my Uncle sang Vince Gill's song "Go Rest High on That Mountain". Christmas day, we opened gifts from my father. It was the worst Christmas of my life. Although I was happy to be with family - there was an important part of our family that was missing. We kept our reservations for dinner, when we arrived they seated us at the table. Since we were one person short, they began removing the silverware, glasses and napkins from what would have been my daddy's seat. I felt as if they were tearing my heart out of my chest with their bare hands. I remember when I was in fourth grade, one of my friends' fathers died on Christmas day. I had feared that my dad may die on Christmas day as well - the thought never entered my mind that he could die before Christmas. He was so close to holding on, but he lost his battle. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of my daddy. I can still not hear the songs "Wind Beneath My Wings" or "Go Rest High on That Mountain" without crying. Sometimes I even cry when I hear "How Great Thou Art". Yes, there is not a day that goes by that I do not think of him. But there is also not a day that goes by that I do not know how truly I was blessed to have him as a father. So - Happy Birthday Daddy - I love you and I miss you everyday.... Until we meet again....